


Hansel and Gretel

by Niebelungen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niebelungen/pseuds/Niebelungen
Summary: Dean and Sam enjoy camping. Castiel is guided by Gabriel. Mild background Wincest.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 1





	Hansel and Gretel

Hänsel und Gretel

[Sam is undergoing the trials to close the gates of Hell]

If anyone reads the Dresden Files, I think Jensen Ackles would make a marvelous Gentleman John Marcone

“Hey Sarah, Sarah, come here!” Jesse called excitedly to his sister.   
“What is it?”  
“This is it, this is our chance at a major breakthrough. The ancient texts have to be here.”  
“God, Jesse, if we get our hands on those first and get to translate them it will make our careers. I’ll get packed.”  
The last time the siblings were seen was on a gas station camera. 

“We want ice-cream! We want ice cream!” the children chanted as they ran around the aisles. “Behave! Both of you.” admonished their mother. The ten year old girl and her seven year old brother had gone missing; they were last seen at the gas station.

Susan and Ellen were sisters, they were on spring break and taking a road trip to see a concert of their favorite boy band. That same gas station was the last time they were ever seen.

“Twenty four disappearances, twelve siblings, all at the same gas station. Dean, this has to be a case.”   
“Yeah, I’ll go and check it out.”  
“Dean, stop trying to protect me. We’ll go. The both of us.”

Sam was researching into the vics, when he came upon something exciting, “Hey, look at this. The first victims were searching for some ancient texts. I looked further into it, and it turns out that these texts are likely writings from a Scribe of God sometime around 2500 BC in Sumerian. These siblings had a rather bland career and acquiring and translating these documents would have rocketed them into fame.”  
“A prophet of God? Do you think these tablets might have something about the trials in them?”  
“There’s one way to find out.”

Sam and Dean watched the footage from the gas station and then visited the gas station. They went to interrogate the clerk.  
“Can you tell us anything about any of the victims on the nights that they were here?” Sam asked intently.  
“No.”   
“No, you realize that we’re the Feds and you’re obliged to cooperate with our investigation.” Dean said.  
“I don’t know anything because I wasn’t working at those times.”

“Oh.” Dean and Sam chorused. For some reason, they’ve always gotten the clerk who just happened to be working on the nights of whatever incidents they were investigating. It never occurred to them that people might actually go home and not live at the store. Some stores had even more than one employee and they actually might work different shifts. This realization came as a tremendous shock to the brothers. It occurred to Sam to wonder how they always happened upon the correct clerks the rest of the time. They ascertained who the people were who had been working during the disappearances. 

They didn’t get much information from the subsequent interviews. The children had been described as rambunctious. “Out of control, screaming, monsters.”  
“You do realize that they’ve disappeared?” Sam reminds the clerk.  
“Yeah, it’s sad, but seriously, they were the worst.”  
The various adults had all been described as upbeat. “Hey, Chad? Remember those two dudes? They were practically pissing themselves they were so excited.”  
“You do realize that all of those people disappeared?” Sam reminded.  
“Yeah, that’s too bad.”

Later, driving to a diner, “Doesn’t sound like any of those people were scared or worried or anything.” Dean offers.  
“Yeah, just seems like they were all excited.” Sam responds.  
“So, we’ve got a bunch of happy siblings that disappear from a gas station. Any ideas?”  
“I’m pulling a blank here. We don’t really even have enough to start checking the lore.”  
“I’m also not seeing how any of this ties in with the prophets notes, except that one couple.”  
“Yeah, Dean, none of the other disappearances seem to have anything to do with the prophet’s notes.”

They interview the parents of the 10 and 7 year old siblings that had gone missing. The father gave terse answers, the mother just kept silent with her head down.   
“We heard that your children were very excited before they disappeared.” Dean said.  
“Yeah.” the father responded.  
“Any idea what they were so excited about?”  
“Woods.”  
“Would you care to elaborate?” Dean asked.  
“They were excited about a camping trip into the woods.”  
After painfully extracting the information about this camping trip from the father, especially where it was going to be, Sam and Dean headed back to the hotel.

“Man, that was like pulling teeth.”   
“Sam, you know they were hiding something.”  
“Yeah, that’s obvious. We’ll check out this camp site first thing tomorrow. Then we’ll finish up the interviews. If we don’t get anything, we’ll lean on them some more.”  
Dean was watching carefully as Sam undressed. That first trial had really hurt his brother, even if the effects were not apparent on the surface of Sam’s skin. Dean appreciated the easy grace, with which Sam undressed. “It’s funny, you always do that thing with your hair after you get undressed.”  
“What thing?”  
“That thing where you run your fingers through your hair after taking all your clothes off.”  
“I’m just straightening it out. It gets messed around when I take my shirt off. Mostly I’m just getting it out of my eyes.”  
“You know, Sammy, you wouldn’t have that problem if you cut it short.”  
“Dude, why are you so obsessed with my hair? It’s my hair and I like it long.”  
“Whatever, night princess.”  
“Shut up, Dean.”

When they started hiking through the woods complete with camping gear, it was a beautiful sunny day. After about four hours Sam suggested, “Should we stop for lunch?”  
“Sure, what did you pack?”  
“I got a couple of these snack packs, stuck them in with some ice. We should probably eat those now.”  
“What? You mean that shit with the grapes and carrots and stuff? Didn’t you pack any real food?”  
“Don’t whine, Dean. What are you, twelve? Here, just take this and start eating.”

Sam let’s go before Dean closes his hand or more like because of Dean’s reluctance to take the pack. “Dean, go pick that up.”  
“Why don’t you do it? The winds blown that thing about five feet.”  
“And it’s still moving across the ground. Dean go after it, I’m not having you litter our forests and losing perfectly good food. Go.”  
“Fine.” Dean huffs, but he goes after the food anyway. Sam has already pulled his hair back in a ponytail to stop the wind blowing it in his face. That is one of the annoying things about long hair. 

The wind is practically gale force when they stop to make camp and the sky is darkening. “Any day now. You sure you don’t want help with that?” Dean is attempting to set up the tent, but it’s acting like a sail in the wind. “Dean, just give up on the tent. Even if you get it up, it’ll just blow away.”  
“I would’ve thought that the trees would break the wind up some.”  
“They do, just not enough. I’m actually more worried about the trees falling on us.”  
“Awesome, that’s just awesome, Sammy. After all the monsters we’ve taken out and after you’ve completed the first trial, we end up killed by a tree.” 

Sam doesn’t say anything to that. He just rolls out his camping bag and zips himself up in it. It’s at that point that it starts to rain. Sorry, not rain, more like torrential downpour. Dean hurries into his bedroll pushed up right next to Sam. They both angle the little face hole to the side, trying to minimize the amount of water that gets in, while still being able to breath. Dean starts to think that it won’t be a tree that kills him after all, he’ll just drown from the fricking rain that was coming in sideways.

Sam and Dean, probably didn’t get any sleep. There were a few moments where Dean might have lost consciousness, for the odd minute or two, but sleep was really a lost cause. The morning came in peaceful and clear. “That’s some view, isn’t it Dean.”  
Dean gave the view a malevolent glare, “Yeah, some view. You realize that the only reason we didn’t lose our supplies was that we tied them to the base of a tree trunk.”  
“Well, at least they’re dry, mostly.”  
Dean turned his malevolent glare on Sam.  
Admittedly, Sam did take a somewhat perverse pleasure in needling Dean. Mostly because it’s so easy, but he backs down a little. “At least we didn’t get hit by a tree.” That doesn’t seem to improve Dean’s mood, go figure. Still, grumpy Dean strikes Sam as cute.

Sam pulls out some crackers and trail mix for breakfast. Having Dean trapped in the woods meant that he could not escape eating healthy. If Dean wanted junk food, he should have done the packing.   
“I should have realized you were up to something when you volunteered to pack all the camping gear.” Dean says bitterly. Sam just smirks. They start hiking into the morning sun, Sam gets a good view of Dean’s ass as he moves through the woods. “God, what use are these trees? They don’t even block the glare.”  
“Dean, are you just going to complain the entire time?”  
“Yes, Sammy, yes I am. Because the woods suck, and hiking sucks, and the sun sucks and camping sucks, and rain sucks, and how come I have like four times as many mosquito bites as you?”  
“Maybe they’re just drawn to your sweet personality.” Sam says ironically. Dean throws another glare Sam’s way.

The brothers come upon a bar in the middle of the woods. Dean whoops and heads towards it. “Dean. Wait. Don’t you think this is odd?”  
“Sammy, I’m covered in dirt. I got completely soaked last night. I haven’t had any decent food, and I just really want a beer.” They head into the bar. Sam’s on full alert.

Castiel had just killed another angel. It was self-defense. The angel was trying to kill Castiel, then again, after Castiel’s attempt at playing god, could he blame her. Did he really have any right to blame any of them, but he had decided to live. Other angels had allowed themselves to die, rather than to kill their brethren. They refused to kill, it’s not that they wanted death. Many of them had fled and tried to avoid death, but when confronted they would not kill. Those were the first ones to go, there are no more angels like that. What’s left are the murderers, like Castiel. 

Castiel was standing there looking at the scorched wings behind the human corpse when it started to rain. The rain was vicious, cutting into Castiel’s skin at an angle, it was like a baptism. Perhaps with this penitence, some of his sin could be washed away. Except that Castiel wasn’t penitent. He knew that he would do this again, for him there could be no absolution. His continued existence is bought with blood and it is a price he’s proved willing to pay. 

It occurred to Castiel, that maybe he should get out of the rain, or at least not linger around the crime scene. He flies off, but he’s not sure what to do now. He’s always been very goal oriented, it’s when he doesn’t have a goal that he feels lost. Whether that goal was finding God or being god, whether his goal was wrong or right, successful or failed, it was working towards a goal that ordered his life. It’s like Meg said, you find a cause and devote yourself to it. 

Goals aren’t quite like a cause, Castiel’s cause would always be Dean, but you can have multiple goals. You can also prioritize those goals. One of Castiel’s goals is to stop the angel on angel violence. It’s a testament to how twisted everything’s become that that should involve killing other angels. 

Dean made a bee-line for the bathroom to wipe off mud, Sam follows. There’s a kind of fascination in watching Dean wash-up with paper towels and a sink. Perhaps it’s the image as drops of water glide over Dean’s face. Sam would like to just lick those drops off of Dean. They emerge from the bathroom, Dean immediately begins to mingle and flirt, soon becoming the center of attention. Sam mingles as well, but in a much quieter way. Dean’s in the crowd, while Sam connects with the wallflowers. Dean’s laughing and joking making friends with over-the-top behavior and gauche comments. Sam starts quiet conversations with those who avoid the crowds. Sam can be the center of attention and sometimes enjoys it, but now he’s surrounding himself with a calm quietness that draws in the spares. 

A man approaches Sam, he’s barely thirty with dark brown eyes that match his skin. He’s slender, but athletic, the build of a basketball player, but the man is too short, about 5’10”. “What’s with this place? There aren’t any cars, how did anybody even get here? Why’s this place just out in the middle of the woods?”  
“Woah, slow down, that’s too many questions all at once. How about we just start with our names? I’m Joseph.”  
“Sam, yeah I know that was rather abrupt, but this place is strange.”  
“It’s just a bar and a great place to meet attractive tall men.” Joseph’s eyes travel up and down Sam’s frame. 

Gabriel finds Castiel battle-scarred and spattered with blood that is not all his own. He can’t smile, he doesn’t even feel like making a joke out of it. He’s spent most of his time running from his family, tucking his head in the sand. If he can’t see them, they aren’t killing each other. Castiel is not a coward, not like Gabe, he runs towards things rather than away from them. 

Castiel suddenly finds himself at a rather idyllic looking cottage straight out of medieval Europe. Gabe slings an arm around his shoulder. Amara and Chuck, only not Amara and Chuck are talking inside the house. “What is this?”  
Gabe’s eyes shine with a wicked light, “Peace.”  
“I don’t have time for your games.”  
Chuck’s voice carries, “There’s no food Amara. We’ll starve to death. Let’s take the children into the woods and abandon them.” Amara seems reluctant, but caves in. 

“I thought it was the mother that was supposed to want to abandon the children.”  
Gabe smiled and nodded sagely, “That’s only because male dominated societies hate any woman over the age of thirty.”  
“Well, it is true that the only woman that survives in Hänsel and Gretel is Gretel. Gabe, why are you doing this?”  
“Just spend some time with me and enjoy yourself. We never spend time together, we’re brothers; we should really spend time together.”

Dean woke up in a cage, a rather small, free-standing cage. The bar was gone, replaced by the interior of a cottage kitchen. Sam, in his weakened condition was under the control of a wicked witch. Dean really needed to take a dump, but somehow the fairy stories never addressed that. “Sam, what the hell’s going on?” Sam doesn’t answer, maybe he can’t. “Hey, you witch, what’s going on?” The witch is right at six feet, broad shouldered, with the sculpted muscles of those who live in the gym.   
“I thought that would be obvious. I’ve trapped you in a cage and am controlling your brother.” His gray eyes have a kind of ‘Like duh’ expression in them.  
Dean rolls his eyes, “Well, I have to take a dump, unless you want me to do it in this cage.”  
The witch runs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, thinking about Dean’s request with distaste. “Fine.” He gestures with one hand and Sam opens the cage and seizes Dean roughly by the neck. Sam drags him to the restroom and shoves him in. 

Dean tried to struggle, but he hesitated to be too rough given his brother’s weakened condition. The bathroom had no window and Dean could find nothing that might be used as a weapon. When Dean exited the bathroom, he managed to break Sam’s grip, but was hit by a green light that knocked him unconscious again. When he came to, he was once more in the small cage. Sam had a chain around his ankle that was anchored to the wall. The witch was absent. “Sam, where’d the bastard go?” 

Sam was collapsed on the floor, blinking his eyes groggily.   
“Well, jeez, Dean. Let me just check his day planner that he left with me.”  
“Apparently, you’re not that bad off, certainly, your mouth seems to be fine.” Dean indicates the ankle cuff, “Can’t you pick the lock on that thing?”  
“With what, Dean? Do you have your lock-picks on you? Because he took mine and there isn’t anything within reach that can be used as one.”   
Dean checked his pockets and surveyed the room, Sam was right. This was very odd, because normally there was always something that could conveniently be used as a lock-pick. “What’s wrong with this place, it’s almost like reality or something.”

Castiel followed Gabriel, fakeChuck, and fakeAmara out into the woods.   
“Now you boys go collect firewood.” Chuck instructs Gabe and Cas.  
“Seriously, Gabe, are we seriously going to do this?” Even though he complains he joins Gabe in collecting firewood. Chuck had given them a bit of bread. By the time they finished collecting the firewood, Chuck and Amara were gone.   
Cas, throws his hands out and raises his eyebrows, “Well?”  
“Well, what?” Gabe responds innocently.  
“Well, where are they? Didn’t you leave a trail of rocks?”  
“Oops, sorry, I thought you were going to do that.”

Cas glares at Gabe. Gabe shrugs, “Hey, I just set it up. The story plays out by itself.”  
“So what are we supposed to do now?”  
“Take a nap?”  
“We don’t sleep.”  
“We could make out.”  
Castiel breaks the glare with a harumph and marches off into the forest. He remembers something about Hänsel and Gretel following a bird. He scans the trees for birds. What the hell, it’s a forest, there are tons of birds. Gabriel rushes to catch up with Cas. A giant glowing bee flies past Castiel. He shoots a look to Gabriel and follows the glowing bee in a huff. The bee leads them to an honest to god gingerbread house. Gabe runs up and starts chomping on the house.

“Why bother eating it, it just tastes like molecules?”  
“You just don’t get it. It’s the thought that counts. The pleasure that so many people derive from sweets. It’s like how you share the pleasure of the human when you have sex. There’s an emotional energy around symbols.”   
Castiel understood about sharing the emotional energy during sex, because that was directly with another person. Castiel often felt the afterglow from Dean’s escapades, he also felt Dean’s arousal of anticipation. “But that’s very direct. I don’t really get that sense from objects.”  
Gabe pauses and looks puzzled, “Oh, well, maybe it’s an archangel thing.”

It’s at that point that a fakeLucifer emerges from the gingerbread house.  
“Really, Gabe?” Cas sighs.

“Sam, what is this anyway? Do you have any idea what this witch wants?”  
“Oh, I thought you had realized, it’s Hänsel and Gretel. The witch probably wants to eat us. Especially you.”  
“Me? Why especially me?”  
“Well, Hänsel was kept in the cage and fattened up to be eaten. It could be a comment on your diet.” Sam laughs to himself, “Since you’re in a cage you should strip and start dancing.”  
“Yeah, hilarious. How ‘bout some ideas for getting us the fuck out of here.”   
Sam starts coughing uncontrollably, and embarrassingly, he’s coughing up more blood. He sees the worry etched into Dean’s face, he hates that sight more than anything. 

That’s when the witch returns. 

Gabriel is lounging on a red velvet chez-lounge inside a large gilded birdcage, snacking on gingerbread. Castiel is being forced to clean, “Are you sure this is Hänsel and Gretel? I feel more like Cinderella.”  
Gabe doesn’t deign to answer. “And why are you in such a luxurious cage? I don’t remember that from the story.”  
“Cassie, Cassie, you know that everything I do, I do in style.”   
“Then why am I stuck doing chores?”  
“Because you’re the girl, obviously.”  
“Even if I was a girl, it shouldn’t mean that I have to do chores while you sit around eating sweets.”  
“Hey, Cas, it’s how the story goes.”  
“And I’m telling you I don’t remember the part where Hänsel lounges around on a sofa,”  
“Chez-lounge, Cas.”  
“Chez-lounge, eating sweets.”  
“There are a lot of different versions of this story, Cas. You’re probably just thinking of a different version.”

The witch picks up a broad sword and lunges at Sam. Sam manages to finally break free of the mind control just in time to avoid the thrust and deliver a crushing blow to the witch’s wrist. He grabs the sword and pierces the witch’s heart, then he chops off its head. He grabs the keys from the witch’s belt and frees himself and then Dean. They then salt and burn the body.   
“Dean, you look disgruntled, what’s wrong?”  
“You said this was Hänsel and Gretel.”  
“Yeah.”  
“The witch is supposed to be burned in an oven.”  
“Did you want to burn the witch in an oven?”  
“Well, yeah, otherwise what’s the point?”  
“Isn’t the point to stop the killings?”  
“Well, yeah, but we were supposed to burn the witch in an oven.”  
Sam rolls his eyes, “Whatever, Dean.”  
Sam heads back to the car and Dean follows.

FakeLucifer tells Castiel, “Go check the fire in the oven.”  
“No. I don’t want to.”  
“Cas, you gotta play along.”  
Well, he’d gone this far, “I’m so dumb I don’t know how. Can you show me?”  
Lucifer huffs, “It’s easy you stupid girl. You just look in, like this.”  
Cas pushes Lucifer into the oven and slams and locks the door. Then he stalks off leaving Gabe in the cage.  
“Hey! You’re supposed to free me!”  
“I’m done Gabe, now leave me alone.”  
Gabe sighs as Cas stalks away, he trots to catch up with Cas. “Cas, wait, you’ve got to head back to the cottage.” 

Cas glares at Gabe. “This is over, Gabe. What was even the point of all of this?”  
“Don’t you know how the story ends, Cas?”  
“Yeah, the children live happily ever after with their father and the wicked mother is dead.”  
“Cas, Chuck is the mother.” with that Gabriel just disappears. Cas is back in the real world, alone.


End file.
